


Masquerading

by Embarassedbutkinky



Category: Dragon Ball
Genre: Costumes, F/M, Family, Family Bonding, Family Feels, Family Fluff, Halloween, Halloween Costumes, Trick or Treating, Vandalism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-26
Updated: 2019-10-26
Packaged: 2021-01-03 17:08:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,489
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21182987
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Embarassedbutkinky/pseuds/Embarassedbutkinky
Summary: Ever since Cell was defeated something has been growing between Bulma and Vegeta. Are either of them mature enough to come together for their son? One Halloween night, they make a decision.





	Masquerading

**Author's Note:**

> Hello all!
> 
> Here is my submission for the Vegebulocracy Halloweenie event. Keep your eyes peeled for a lot of Halloween themed Vegebul coming this week in this collection.
> 
> Thanks,
> 
> EBK

The heavy metal door of the newly constructed Gravity Room echoed as her small fist rapped on it. She'd been standing there waiting for him for a few minutes now; if he made her wait too long she'd be more pissed off than she probably already was. Vegeta rolled his eyes, finally striding over to the entrance and slamming the button to open the chamber.

"What?" He snapped.

Bulma was scowling. "Took you long enough."

"I'm training."

"Yeah, no shit," she muttered. 

"What do you want, Woman?"

She stood a little straighter and poked him in the chest. " _ You _ have an obligation today."

He raised an eyebrow. "Is it your birthday again? I suppose I can take a break for sex."

She snorted. "Not to me. To Trunks."

"Oh," he sighed, turning away to head back into the chamber.

She followed him, as he knew she would. "Hey! We talked about this! If you're going to stick around  _ my _ house you're going to be a father to your son."

Vegeta grumbled, taking a long swig from his water bottle. It had been a few months now since the Cell Games. Originally his plan had been to defeat the androids and be on his way. There were plenty of planets in this system, some of which would even respect his royalty out of tradition. The situation had been handled, though not exactly as he'd been anticipating. The result  _ should _ be the same. The Earth was safe, Kakarot was dead… but the boy had complicated things. Both the infant and the older version that had come to fight with him.

"What do you expect me to do with him now? He's less than a year old. He can speak three words and drools on himself. I'll train him when he's ready."

She crossed her arms. "There's more to being a father than training him."

His brow furrowed. "You're incorrect."

Bulma sighed. "Look. I don't know how Saiyan parenting works--"

"Clearly."

" _ But _ , this is Earth. Trunks is half human. He needs human parenting--"

"Then you should be fucking the Weakling!" He snapped.

She placed a hand on his chest and he calmed, looking annoyed at himself that he did so. The Woman managed to have that effect on him lately. It didn't matter how loudly he shouted or how viciously he threatened the human race. She just wasn't intimidated anymore, and knowing that made his temper hollow out. It was infuriating.

"Chill out," she ordered. "Trunks is  _ your _ son. So you're coming with us tonight."

"Where?"

"There's an… obligatory human ritual for Earthling children tonight. It's tradition for them to be accompanied by both of their parents."

"Oh," he huffed. "Fine. Whatever."

Her face softened. "Really? I thought you'd fight me more on that."

"It's obligatory?"

"Uh, yeah."

"Then I'll participate, with the understanding he  _ also  _ must abide by Saiyan tradition as he ages."

Her face lit up a little, and he fought a smirk. There was one compliment he had no choice but to give her; the Woman was fascinated by the concept of an alien culture. He'd told her only a small amount about the Saiyan people, but she was the  _ only _ one he'd told anything. He never spoke about his planet with allies when he was in Frieza's army, not that anyone would have cared to listen. Hell, the subject had rarely come up with Nappa and Raditz. Part of him actually enjoyed seeing another being who was interested in history that only he remembered in the universe. He certainly wasn't willing to tell her that.

"What kind of rituals do Saiyan children perform?" She asked.

"Nothing too elaborate. He has to try to kill me at thirteen."

_ "What?" _

"He won't  _ succeed _ , obviously. He plans an attack at some point in the year to kill me. When he makes his move, I counter, then I kick his ass."

She blinked. "Well. That sounds fun."

"It isn't supposed to be fun, it's educational. He'll be stronger from the encounter and know his limits. It prevents arrogance in teenagers."

"That… makes too much sense to me," she sighed, rubbing her eyes. "We might be spending too much time together. Look, just meet us in the kitchen at four this afternoon, alright?"

"Fine."

She nodded, running her fingers up to his neckbone. He closed his eyes, taking a moment to indulge her soft touch. This was the other uncertainty in his life right now.

Her.

So maybe he owed a debt to his son. He could understand that. If she was out of the picture he would take Trunks with him, wherever it was he decided to go. Bastard or not, the boy was Saiyan royalty and he had evidence that he would grow up to be a strong warrior. However, the boy's mother was here, and he knew she would never turn him over without a fight. Then there were these moments, the slow slide of her fingers against his skin, that wild eyed glare of hers that challenged and thrilled him enough to seek the refuge of her bed more nights a week than not. Yes. The woman complicated things.

"Good. Behave and maybe we'll have some fun tonight."

He snorted. "Whatever. I need to train. Get out."

Her smile faded, that enticing hand withdrawing. "Fine.  _ Jerk _ ."

He watched her go, wondering briefly why he always chose to annoy her when she looked at him like that.

\---------------------

"Oh, isn't he  _ precious _ ?" Panchy Briefs' voice echoed through the hall.

Vegeta winced; Bulma's mother's voice stung his ears when she squeaked like that, and he was briefly thankful her daughter had not inherited that trait. He much preferred the noises Bulma made. He silently slid into the doorway of the kitchen, not drawing the attention of either of the women. They sat at the table with strange plants in front of them, chatting idly. Trunks sat in his highchair, chewing on his fingers absently while he watched his mother with mild confusion. The boy wore a gray outfit Vegeta had not seen before with a large head piece that covered most of his head, with only his face and a few strands of his hair poking out of the edge of it

"What is my son wearing?" Vegeta asked, making the women jump.

Bulma smiled at him, holding up the flappy ears on either side of Trunks' head. "He's an elephant. Cute, right?"

Vegeta raised an eyebrow.

She blinked. "Get it? Elephant?  _ Trunks _ ? It's customary for kids to wear a costume tonight."

"Trunks," the boy said helpfully. It was one of three words that ever came out clear.

Bulma scooped him out of high chair and faced him towards the doorway. "Look Trunks, it's Daddy. Say 'Hi, Daddy'."

"No." Another word he'd managed easily. Trunks reached toward a small pile of candies on the table he'd been eyeing, taking a handful and stuffing them in his mouth.

Vegeta crossed his arms and leaned against the wall as he took in the scene. "What happened to that 'no sugar' kick you had him on?"

She shrugged. "Meh, it's a holiday. Besides, we're skipping naptime. We can manage the sugar rush."

"Holiday? I thought this was a childhood rite of passage!"

"It is," she stuck her tongue out. "A yearly one."

He gestured to the plants in front of them. "Do we get to eat at least?"

Panchy laughed. "Those pumpkins aren't for eating, Silly!" She turned her around to reveal a bucktoothed grin carved into the side of it.

"We've gotta go anyway, Mom," Bulma said, hauling Trunks up and handing him to Vegeta. "I'm going to grab my costume."

Trunks watched her go, eyes widening as he watched his mother head into the other room. His lip quivered a bit, ignoring Vegeta as he reached for her.

"Hey, knock it off," Vegeta grumbled at him.

Trunks frowned at him, pointing to the door Bulma had gone through. "Mama."

"She's obviously returning. Saiyan Warriors do not cry for such frivolous reasons."

Panchy reached out and gently squeezed her grandson's foot. "He's just got a little separation anxiety," she said sweetly. "It's just a phase."

Bulma came back with a diaper bag, slinging it over Vegeta's shoulder without asking. She stuck a pair of tall bunny ears on her head, pulling Trunks back into her arms.

"Okay, follow me," she said to Vegeta. "And try not to intimidate the small children."

\--------------

"Aren't you extremely wealthy?" Vegeta asked, following after her.

The three of them were strolling down a residential street not too far from the Capsule Corp complex. Leaves skittered by them in the mild breeze, running past the legs of children that walked up and down the sidewalks around them. Bulma slowed down so that she could walk in tandem with him, handing Trunks a piece of chocolate he'd been reaching for from his bucket of candy. The boy had a small pile of loot already, handed out by their neighbors.

"Yeah, I'm rich. What about it?"

"Then just purchase your own damn candy. Why take the time to beg for it from humans?"

She laughed. "It's about the activity, Dork. Look, Trunks is having a great time."

"He's shoving chocolate in his mouth. Of course he's happy. We could have done that at home."

"Don't be an ass, not tonight," she warned. "I love Halloween, and I'm not going to let you ruin Trunks's first one."

"You enjoy this holiday? I thought it was for children."

"It doesn't have to be. Sure, the Trick or Treating is for kids, but it's also about spooky stuff. You know, ghosts, witches, monsters, aliens, that sort of thing."

He smirked. "Aliens?"

She paused. "Oh. I… I actually forgot for a second. I guess I see you so much I forget you're not human."

"You celebrate things that can kill you?"

"Sometimes scary things are fun."

"Then why are so many of these children dressed as non threatening creatures? That girl over there is dressed as a prostitute."

Bulma stifled a chuckle, casting a glance at a group of girls passing by them that were probably too old to Trick or Treat. "Hey, sometimes the costumes are a little skimpy. I'm not going to any parties this year, but I've worn my fair share of sexy costumes. There's nothing wrong with wanting to feel confident in your body, especially on a night where you can wear anything you want without judgement. Pretending can be really fun. Hell, that's where I got these ears from."

His eyes darted to the accessory. "There is more to that costume?"

She winked. "Yeah. Maybe I'll dig it out of my closet later tonight."

She knocked on the oak door they'd reached, and a short elderly woman answered quickly. The woman gushed for a moment about Trunks' costume, placing a hand over her heart.

"Aren't you just the cutest little thing?" She asked with a smile.

"No," he answered, pointing to the bowl of candy in her hand. The boy had figured out the arrangement tonight; Mom knocks on a door, adult smiles at him, he gets candy. He was not interested in deviation from that formula.

"What a sweet family," the woman smiled, putting some candy in Trunks' bucket. "Mommy's a bunny and Daddy is…" he eyed his hairline, "a vampire?"

Vegeta scoffed. "How  _ dare _ y--"

"Yep, he sure is," Bulma smiled, quickly thanking her and tugging him down the walkway. She leaned close to him to whisper. "She just gave your son candy. Be  _ polite _ ."

"The fuck is a vampire?"

She giggled. "It's your fault for wearing black clothes. You know, I didn't even think about putting you in a costume. I just assumed you'd say no. Maybe next year we can just put plastic fangs in your mouth and call it good."

"This in undignified," he grumbled. "The Saiyan Royal Family should not be called 'sweet'."

She was quiet for a moment. "Is that what we are?"

"Royals? Technically. You would be considered a consort, but Trunks has royal blood. That makes him a prince, human genetics notwithstanding."

She rolled her eyes. "I don't care about the royal part. I meant… is this a family?"

He darted his eyes towards her. The sun was beginning to set, and the evening grew a bit colder. "That's what the old woman called us. I was just commenting on it."

She nodded.

"Mama," Trunks whined, pointing to the next door and squirming. He was eager to grow his hoard.

"Alright, you little piggy," Bulma said, kissing his cheek. They headed up the walkway, and Bulma rang the doorbell.

They heard movement behind the door, and nearly thirty seconds later it creaked open. A man frowned, peering out of the dark house at Trunks. The boy waved excitedly, bouncing in his mother's arms.

Bulma smiled at him. "Trick or tr--"

"Too young," he grunted simply, swinging the door shut firmly. The door slammed against the frame loudly, shutting inches from Bulma's face.

Bulma blinked and Trunks's smile faded. "Well. He's a ray of sunshine. Come on Trunks, we'll try the next house." She carried the boy down the steps, but noticed Vegeta hadn't moved. "Vegeta? You coming?"

The Saiyan was glaring at the door, teeth gritted as a low snarl sounded in his throat. He surged forward, pounding angrily on the wood. There was no answer. "Hey!" He barked. "Asshole! Get out here or I'll break the fucking door!"

Bulma's eyes were wide. "Vegeta, it's fine--"

"It sure as hell isn't!" He shouted.

The door pulled open. The man stood before him with a deeper frown than before. "What do you want?"

"Are you an idiot?" Vegeta asked. "My son requested sweets from you."

The man scoffed, rolling his eyes. "I am so sick of soccer moms toting around babies that can't even eat half of the candy. Get lost."

Vegeta growled. "And who the fuck do you think you are disrespecting my…" he trailed off, casting a look at Bulma. Her eyes caught his for a brief moment, and caught the indecision in his face.

"Look Buddy," the man shouted, "I'm not interested in you, your Baby Mama, or your weird ass kid--"

"Hey!" Bulma snapped. "What'd you say about my baby?"

"What's he dressed as, a rock?"

"He's an  _ elephant _ ."

"Trunks!" The baby added helpfully 

"Fuck off or I'm calling the police," the man huffed, slamming the door again.

Vegeta's hair flickered to a bright blonde. He smirked as raw electricity start to spark over him. Bulma placed a hand on his back.

Damn. Again, he felt his anger begin to fade, but he fought it. Not  _ this _ time. Not  _ that _ asshole. He'd pay the price for his insolence.

"Stand back, Woman. I'm going to blow his entire house to pieces."

"Vegeta no, we--"

"He deserves it!" He argued.

"Listen, we'll--"

"Enough!" Vegeta snapped. "You may not understand the concept of honor, but I do. That man insulted us, and he deserves--"

She grabbed his face in one hand, squeezing his cheeks as she tried to make him face her. "Vegeta, I  _ agree _ with you."

He blinked. "What?"

" _ Fuck _ that guy, and fuck his house.  _ No one _ calls my baby weird."

"I… Oh," he said, rage fading a bit in his confusion. "I did not realize you would allow retribution. You are always telling me to calm down."

She snorted. "Yeah, I am, because you've got a hair-trigger temper that goes off for stupid shit.  _ This _ , isn't stupid."

He looked her up and down. "I underestimated you, Woman. Back up so that the flying debris does not strike you."

She took his arm, gently. "That's the only catch. It's still Halloween. We do this the Earthling way."

\-------------------

Trunks was babbling loudly, a little  _ too _ loudly to be as sneaky as they were trying to be. He'd had far too much sugar, and even though the sun had set and the street was empty he was wide awake.

"Shh," Bulma calmed him quietly, trying again in vain to put the pacifier in his mouth as they stepped through the shadows of the trees. He fussed and squirmed around, kicking his legs. "Trunks, it's time to whisper."

"No," Trunks said helpfully.

Vegeta finally sighed, taking the child from her arms and holding him up to his face. "Boy, this is a mission. You are here because your pride was insulted, but if you give away our position, you will be  _ left behind.  _ Do you understand?"

Trunks paid him uncharacteristic attention, suddenly going quiet and holding a finger up to his lips.

"Uh, yes. Silence. Good," he handed him back to Bulma, adjusting the bag slung over his shoulder.

Bulma grinned at him. "Not bad, Dude." She poked the boy's stomach. "Did you listen to Daddy? Huh?'

"Woman,  _ silence _ ."

"Right, right," she muttered.

They crept into the lawn of the house and Vegeta sat the bag down, unzipping it and starting to set the cartons on the grass. "What is the chicken young for? Are they used in an explosive?"

"Nope," Bulma grinned. She opened a carton, grabbed an egg, and chucked it at the side of the house.

Vegeta stared as the bits of egg shell slid down the siding. "What happens now?"

She took another one. "We do it again."

"You can't be serious."

"Vegeta, egging a house is a Halloween  _ institution _ . We said Trick or Treat. We got no treats." She put an egg in his hand. "Chuck it, you'll feel better. Just don't break the house, we want to get it good and messy before he notices so he doesn't call the cops."

He looked skeptically at the egg in his hand, then easily lobbed it the distance to splatter against the front door. His eyes opened wide, a small grin forcing its way onto his face. Trunks laughed, pointing as they watched the egg drip down.

"Right?" She giggled. "It's like a full therapy session in two seconds. Like peeling the plastic off a new phone, or popping bubble wrap, or--"

"Cracking bones," he nodded. "Satisfying."

"Uh, sure," she shrugged. "Whatever floats your boat, Saiyan." She threw another egg, managing to splatter it against an upstairs window. "This'll take him forever to clean. Make sure you get a lot of it on the top floor so he can't reach it without a ladder."

Vegeta scoffed, grabbing two cartons and flying up above the house. Bulma held a hand over her mouth as she watched him casually pepper eggs against the roof of the house until whites and shells were falling from the gutters. He flew back to them and she playfully pushed his shoulder.

"I totally forgot you could do that," she laughed breathlessly.

Trunks was giggling, a deep belly laugh that made it hard for him to catch his breath.

Bulma nailed the mailbox on her next go, and Vegeta tossed a few at the truck in the driveway. Trunks watched excitedly, squirming and trying to get his mother's attention as they bombarded the property.

"Mama!" He squeaked, reaching for an egg, but she was too busy answer, trying to figure out the trajectory to hit a birdhouse hanging far above them. He looked around, finding himself, for the first time, in need of attracting the attention of the  _ other _ one. 

Vegeta had just opened the last carton when they heard it, clear as a bell, for the first time.

"Daddy!"

They paused, laughter dying on their tongues as they turned to look at their son. Bulma's eyes went wide, a slow smile spreading across his face. "Holy shit. Vegeta, I think he means y--"

"Obviously," Vegeta said, still staring at him. "What… what do you want, Boy?"

Trunks pointed to the egg in his hand, nodding furiously.

Vegeta smirked. "You want to toss one as well?"

Trunks nodded again.

Vegeta grabbed him, carrying him closer to the house and putting the egg in his palms. "You may be an infant, but I still expect a decent throw. Ten yards should be close enough."

"Vegeta, he can't throw that far--"

"Well then he begins his training tonight. Come on, Boy, throw it."

Trunks scrunched up his face, holding the egg almost too tightly, then pulled his arm as he poised to throw the projectile. The egg left his hand, hurtling much faster than either of them had expected. The sound of shattering glass broke the air, and Bulma gasped.

"Did he break a  _ window _ ?" She hissed.

Vegeta was laughing. "Yes."

"Shit," she spat, gathering her bag but leaving the cartons strewn everywhere.

"Who's out there?" They heard an angry man shout.

Bulma grabbed Vegeta's hand, pulling him away from the house, still grinning. Vegeta hefted Trunks easily under one arm, then slid a hand around her waist. They lifted into the air so suddenly that she screamed a little, clinging to his shirt.

"What are you--"

"This is faster," he insisted. "I won't drop you."

It was only minutes later that they touched down on the balcony of Bulma's room at Capsule Corp. Trunks was still clapping excitedly, and Vegeta held him up for inspection.

"Not a bad throw, Trunks," he mused. "Perhaps your training is overdue."

Bulma kissed the boy's head, pulling his elephant hat off. "Okay, this one needs to go to bed. It's been a long night."

"No," Trunks shook his head.

"Yes, you little vandal," she argued, kissing at his neck. "We'll destroy more property as a family some other night."

She paused, glancing at Vegeta again. There was that word again, The elusive one they never brought up.

"I'm… I'm going to put Trunks in the nursery."

Vegeta nodded curtly, understanding that this sentence was a challenge.  _ It's about to be just the two of us. What are you going to do about it? _

Bulma carried Trunks into her room and down the hall, and Vegeta thought. He leaned against the railing, looking out towards the crisp autumn night. He could leave. He could go to his bedroom, the Gravity Room, hell he could even leave Earth if he wanted. He didn't.

He felt her presence behind him when she returned, but didn't speak at first. The weight of unspoken promises lay between them. He finally broke the silence.

"Do you want me here?"

"I want Trunks to have his father."

"Not on Earth. Here."

She sighed. "Sometimes I think… Nevermind."

"Out with it, Woman."

"Sometimes I think I'm insane. My friends sure think I am. They don't understand why I hang around you. They just think you're this fierce fighter with a one track mind that doesn't care about anything. They don't see what I see."

"Whatever you think you see is incorrect."

She crossed her arms. "Guess what, Buddy, you care. You care a _ lot _ . You're probably one of the most emotional people in the world."

He scoffed.

"Someone who doesn't give a shit wouldn't care if some asshole disrespected his… family. So you express it by yelling. Whatever. It's better than never feeling anything."

He stared at her. "How do manage to never respond the way I think you will? You confuse the hell out of me."

"Then go to your own room," she snapped, turning to go inside.

He followed her and caught her wrist just as she crossed the threshold. "I didn't say I disliked it."

"Oh."

He kissed her, suddenly, fiercely, and her hands came up to scratch against his back the way she knew he liked. He grunted softly, backing her up until the backs of her knees hit the bed. He released her, eyes deep and penetrating as they bored into hers. "I have had enough of this."

She glanced down between them. "You, uh… don't feel like you've had enough."

"Not enough of  _ sex _ ," he spat. "Enough of," he gestured to the room around them, " _ this _ . This vagueness that exists where there should be none. Are you my mate or not?"

Her eyes went wide. "What? Your  _ mate _ ?"

"Or whatever the hell humans call it, I don't care what the local phrase is."

She pulled slightly on the neck of his shirt. "Who, me? I thought I was a  _ consort _ ." 

He rolled his eyes. "Don't get hung up on titles."

She guffawed. "Really  _ Prince _ Vegeta? Kettle, meet pot."

"It only applies because we are not united. That could… change. If we wished it."

Bulma stared up at him. "I suppose we could… try. For Trunks."

"This isn't about Trunks," he said simply. His lips stopped a fraction of an inch from hers. "My duty to the boy can be filled without you. No more excuses. Do  _ you _ want me, Bulma?"

She stared at him, absent-mindedly wetting her lip. "Yes."

\----------

He thought she had fallen asleep before she mumbled the quiet sentence. "There's going to be rules, you know."

He sighed, staring up at her ceiling. "I had assumed as much."

She leaned her head up, raising an eyebrow at him. "Hey, Buddy, you're  _ choosing _ this. It's not like I'm twisting your arm--"

"I didn't say you were. What rules?"

"You have to be there for Trunks. Not just on holidays."

"Acceptable. You must let me train him."

"Deal. Most couples on Earth are monogamous unless stated otherwise, and I've never been good at sharing."

That one actually made him laugh, a sound she wasn't really used to hearing yet. "Do you honestly believe I would seek out the company of  _ another _ human woman? I can barely handle this strange arrangement."

"Fair enough. And if we do this it goes public. People know for real that we're together."

"If you're holding onto notions that I would ever act the way those fools do on the television--"

"I'm not saying you have to be Romeo all of a sudden. Just, if someone asks, you tell them you're with me. Only me. And don't deny it if people say we're in love."

He grumbled approvingly.

She kissed his cheek. The baby monitor on her nightstand crackled to life and she sighed, slipping on a robe and padding out of the room towards Trunks. Vegeta folded his arms behind his head, trying to decide if he had any 'rules' to give her. None came to mind.

Trunks was fussing when Bulma carried him back into their room. She crawled into bed next to him, rubbing the baby's back. "Somebody had too much candy. I think he has a stomachache."

Vegeta grabbed the back of Trunks' onesie, holding him above his face. "It's your own fault, Boy. That'll teach you not to stuff your face."

Trunks quieted down a bit, and Vegeta lowered him onto his chest to sleep. Bulma laid her head against his shoulder, closing her eyes and laying her hand on Trunks' back. Vegeta didn't close his eyes for a long time.

Maybe they weren't really a family. Not yet.

But pretending could be fun.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



End file.
